Bait
by Jessa4865
Summary: A little game of cat and mouse...Carter/Reese, will be 3 parts total, rated for language and content
1. Chapter 1

Bait  
>Jezyk<br>Spoilers: Through 01X12 Legacy  
>Disclaimer: Not mine, wish they were!<p>

Part One

He was bored. Really bored. It had been two solid days since the last number had been dealt with and Reese was ready to climb the walls. When he asked, Finch shrugged and said it happened on occasion. Reese stared, hoping it was another one of Finch's incomprehensible jokes, waiting for his boss to admit he had a new number for them to work on.

When Finch waved his hand around and suggested Reese choose a book from the library stacks, Reese realized his boss wasn't kidding. And it certainly wasn't funny.

He sat down in the chair beside Finch and grabbed the keyboard, bringing up the camera aimed at Carter's desk. She was getting up, attaching her weapon to her belt, discussing a case with Fusco. With a frown, Reese turned to Finch. "Even Carter has work to do."

Finch snatched the keyboard back and returned to the program he'd been working on. "Yes, Mr. Reese, murders continue, though there is a merciful hiatus in malice aforethought today."

What Finch didn't seem to realize was that Reese couldn't stand being bored. Bad things happened when he was bored. Bad things that usually involved imbibing quite a lot of alcohol. He'd sworn the stuff off after Finch's goons had abducted him that night, when he'd gone to bed in a shithole by-the-hour establishment and woken up handcuffed to a bed in a four-star hotel without any memory of the events in between.

No, alcohol was not good for a man who liked to be in control at all times.

He'd just have to come up with something to do with himself.

#####

He didn't even intend it consciously, no, it just kind of happened. He somehow arrived a few blocks from the address Carter and Fusco had been talking about. He used his phone to turn on the mike on Carter's, listening in as she discussed the case with her partner. It wasn't work, but it was something to do.

He waited on the sidewalk of the building they were in, finding nothing they were saying nearly interesting enough, though he had to admit that listening to Carter's voice was hardly the worst way to waste some hours.

His phone buzzed, interrupting the connection to Carter's cell. Finch. Thank god. Saved from the boredom. "Yes, Finch?"

"What are you doing, Mr. Reese?"

He grinned, waiting for a hint of which direction he should aim in. "Hopefully working on a new number."

"Do you know something I don't, Mr. Reese?" Finch sounded worried, as though Reese had been able to secretly divert the machine's numbers to himself.

"Isn't that why you're calling?"

"No, I haven't received any new numbers. I was wondering if we have a meeting planned with the detectives today."

Fuck. Bastard was tracking him too. Reese glowered at his phone, wishing he'd thought about it sooner. Of course Finch would be tracking him. It could even come in handy if he were injured again. But when he was spying on Carter… not so much.

"I'm bored, Harold."

"I noticed, John."

"You don't want to see me bored." He let the threat hang in the air, hoping it might dissuade Finch from spying on him, but he realized that watching him probably thrilled Finch the same way watching people amused Reese. "Don't call me unless you've got something for me to do, Harold."

"Don't do anything stupid, Mr. Reese."

Reese grinned, figuring Finch was staring at him through some surveillance camera somewhere. "I never do anything stupid, Mr. Finch."

"Then don't do anything dangerous either."

"Oh, Harold, where's your sense of adventure?" He disconnected the phone and headed into the building.

If Harold didn't approve, stalking Detective Carter was bound to be fun.

He waited in the hallway, listening to the conjecture between the two detectives, and upon deciding they weren't heading out any time soon, he moved closer. Carter was, as usual, wrapped up in the case, focusing on all the details she could understand. Fusco sounded, as usual, bored, offering his partner pessimistic reasons for every question she raised.

Another few steps brought him close enough to hear an echo between their voices over the phone and in person. He couldn't resist. It wasn't physically possible. Carter would be wearing heels and Fusco wasn't about to run anywhere, so even if they saw him, well, he was bored. He needed someone to play with. It was no fun to be a mouse without a cat around to chase him.

He peered around the door, almost wishing Finch's voice was in his ear to report where everyone was. The body had been moved, but the outline remained on the floor. Fusco was facing the opposite direction, playing with his phone. Unable to see Carter, which he realized was his goal in all this, he moved further, peeking into the far side of the apartment. She stopped talking mid-sentence, sending a shot of adrenaline through him as he prepared to make a run for it.

But she wasn't looking at him. No, her eyes and her frown were directed at Fusco. She shook her head and turned away, continuing to search through the drawers for something.

He knew a bad idea when he had one. Slipping back away from the door and around the corner, he dialed her number.

"Yeah, Carter." She sounded irritated.

All the better to toy with.

"Is Fusco playing Angry Birds again? Your partner really shouldn't ignore you like that. It's just rude."

He could practically see the look on her face as she realized he was there. He heard the click of her heels on the tiled floor as she raced to the hallway, the volume of her voice changing as she looked side to side.

"Where are you? What do you want?" Irritated and frustrated, her voice still had a lilt to it. She chose the wrong direction, heading down that hall and looking both ways before retracing her steps to check the other one.

He was already in the stairwell by then. "I want your partner to be more polite."

"I'll tell him you said so." She waited a beat. "Is there a reason you're calling?" Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Is there something you need to talk to me about?"

"No. Just checking in." Fearing he might have said too much and given away his inexplicable desire to ruffle her feathers, he hung up and headed down to the street.

He listened in as Fusco questioned her as to why she'd gone running out of the room and her pathetic attempts to claim it had something to do with her son. He listened to her hem and haw when Fusco pointed out that her son usually used her other line. Carter stuttered as she made up a story about having a new phone plan with free calls to explain the phone Reese had given her.

As they finished searching the apartment, coming up empty, Reese called her back. No sense letting a murder go unsolved. "You should check with the tenants across the hall, detective."

"Why?" Her voice dropped to a whisper to keep Fusco from listening in. "The uniforms already did a canvas. They didn't find anything."

"Maybe it's just me, but I'd be curious to know what it was that got dragged out of the deceased apartment recently." He listened as she investigated, quickly finding the chips of paint that were still lying by both doors that had given Reese the hint.

"Hey, Fusco, look at this." She shifted the phone back to her mouth. "Thanks for the tip."

"You're welcome, detective." Then he waited, letting her do her job. She was damn good at it, but sometimes everyone could use a nudge in the right direction.

He chuckled when the pair emerged from the building a few minutes later. Carter was searching for him, amid the crowd, her hair swinging back and forth as her head turned. He felt the excitement in his veins each time she looked in his direction, wondering if she'd spot him, hoping she would, praying she wouldn't. Being caught wasn't any fun, it was being chased that amused him.

And luckily, Carter was always game for a good chase.

As they walked, Reese fell in line behind them, always keeping an ear to their conversation while he watched her. There was something about her, the way she moved, the way she talked, that mesmerized him. She was a tough, no-nonsense cop; she'd been an army interrogator too. She was hard as nails, and yet somehow, all woman. Most of the time, he got that cop attitude from her, all questions and accusations. But once in a blue moon, he'd get more, he'd get Jocelyn rather than Carter, like when she'd thanked him for saving her life with a voice soft as silk, like when she'd apologized for not knowing Snow was going to shoot him. He wanted to watch her forever, or at least until he understood the hold she had over him, the hold she didn't even seem to realize she had.

And he was certainly enjoying the view from behind her, entranced by the way her jeans hugged her curves. He could imagine how she would feel against him, his hands tracing her ass, her body molding to his as his mouth claimed hers.

Oh fuck. He hadn't noticed when they stopped and damn near walked into them. That would have been awkward, especially at a moment when he wasn't sure he could keep his hands from reaching for her.

Seamlessly changing his path so that he only brushed past her shoulder, he came to a stop at the next store. He could see her reflection while he pretended to window shop, watching and listening as Fusco insisted on stopping at a hot dog cart for lunch.

"I didn't bring my wallet, Fusco, I'm hungry too. Let's go back to the precinct."

Fusco ignored her as he gave his order, glancing at her only when he was handing over the cash for his lunch. "I've got a couple extra bucks. You want something?"

She nodded, choosing a pretzel and taking a bite.

Reese gave her a few minutes to eat, once again trailing behind them as they walked. Finally, when she threw the wrapper in the trash, he called again. "That's not a healthy meal, detective."

Her expression was pinched as she looked around again at the realization he was still tailing her. "You have any better suggestions?"

His eyes fell on a swanky little Italian place on the next corner, a sign proclaiming their Zagat rating in the glass. "What about Maggiano's? It looks cleaner than a food cart. They even have tables there."

She was smiling as she sized up the restaurant. "Somehow I doubt it's free."

"Don't worry, Carter. I always pay when I take a lady to dinner."

The expression on her face was priceless at that moment and Reese vowed to find the footage from the camera so he could see it again.

"So these ladies you take to dinner, do you actually sit at a table and eat with them or just call to comment on their food choices from across the room?"

He fought to keep from letting her hear his chuckle. "Perhaps you'd rather eat with Fusco."

She looked at Fusco, who was licking mustard off his fingers, and then shook her head. "I'm going to go out on a limb and say you have better table manners."

"That's not really asking much, now is it?"

"So, is that an option?" She hesitated and Reese found it entirely endearing to see the nervous way she bit her lip before continuing. "Having dinner?"

"Detective Carter, did you just ask me on a date?" He didn't even know what he was saying. He couldn't seem to stop the words from coming out of his mouth. And he sure as hell wasn't sure what he'd do if she said she was.

Damn it, he hated it when Finch was right. He was doing something stupid and dangerous and he knew he wasn't about to stop.

"No, I did not just ask you on a date!" Her shout garnered the attention of half the block.

He noticed the way Fusco was staring at her, and luckily the sight of Fusco's half chewed mouthful of hotdog snapped Reese out of his fog. "You should get back to work, detective."

He listened with a smirk at Fusco's accusing words that it really didn't sound like she was talking to her son. Carter shook her head and stormed away from both of them. Reese just smiled.


	2. Chapter 2

Part Two

He followed them for another two hours, watching them as they worked, occasionally calling Carter and offering her helpful advice or refuting something Fusco said to her. It was getting late in the afternoon, nearly quitting time. She and Fusco parted ways. He took the cruiser back to the station and left Carter to walk.

He couldn't wipe smirk off his face when he saw the way she grinned at her ringing phone. "Fusco really should have offered you a ride home."

Though he was across the street, he saw the way she shook her head. "Fusco and I weren't on a date." She craned her head to look for him, never even getting close. "Besides, I've had quite enough of him for the day. I'd rather walk home alone."

"But you're not alone, Carter, I'm sure you know that by now."

"Yeah, you said that before." Darting across a street just before traffic separated them, she turned around and searched the crowd, still not seeing him. "But I don't see you. And you know I'm pretty good at spotting you CIA boys."

He grinned. "They're good, but not as good as me."

She started walking again. "Bullshit. You're not here."

"Are you calling my bluff, Carter?" 

She stopped on the street, her eyes scanning as she slowly turned in a circle. "Yeah, I'm calling your bluff. No way you haven't had anything better to do all day than follow me around. Don't you have lives to save, crimes to commit, bodies to add to my workload? I'm pretty sure your real job is making more work for me."

"Maybe it's my day off."

She laughed and he loved the sight of her wide smile, even more that it was because of something he said. "Then you've definitely got more important things to do, like picking up your dry cleaning."

"You're beautiful when you smile, Carter. You should do it more."

She moved the phone to stare at it for a moment surprised by the compliment before she put it back to her ear. "As a homicide cop, I don't find a lot of opportunities."

"But you always smile when I call."

"You really have been watching me all day. How the hell-" She spun around again. "Where are you?"

"Around." He hung up, watching her frustration, realizing quite unexpectedly that he wouldn't mind at all relieving some of that frustration.

She was almost a block away before he recovered from the shock. He hadn't been able to figure what had been driving him to taunt her, to tease her for months, let alone an entire day of stalking the woman. And now that it was suddenly quite clear that he wanted her so badly it was driving him insane, he didn't know what to do with the information. Although, he thought with a grin, the way she'd responded to his flirting had given him a fairly good indication that she didn't mind one bit.

Well, then, that changed things.

This game of theirs had just become quite serious. He was playing to win.

He hurried, his long strides allowing him to gain ground on her quickly. Careful to leave ample space so she wouldn't catch him now that she was on the lookout, he ducked into a flower shop a few blocks ahead of her. The owner was reluctant at first, but with the inducement of a hundred dollar bill, the florist was waiting outside with the single red rose when Carter passed.

Reese had retreated back across the street, watching and listening as the man approached her.

"For a beautiful lady."

"Me?" Carter looked around, her face confusion and embarrassment as she double checked that he was talking to her. Then he eyes narrowed. "What's this about?"

The man shrugged, holding the rose out to her. "I'm just giving you a flower."

She put her hands on her hips, drawing her coat back to display her badge and gun. "You're giving me a flower?"

The florist looked around, hopelessly trying to catch site of Reese. "Look, some guy just asked me to give it to you. I'm not doing anything wrong." His hand dropped to his side. "Never mind, I'm sorry."

"Tall guy, expensive suit?" She already knew the answer, but she asked anyway.

He nodded and started to back toward the door, but Carter reached out, taking the rose in her fingers.

"Thank you." She started walking again, her eyes roving for any glimpse of the man she now absolutely knew was there. "Where are you, Reese," she muttered angrily, probably forgetting that he could always hear her.

It sent a chill through him to hear his name. She rarely called him by it. And though he knew better than to expect it to ever happen, he sorely wished to someday hear her say "John."

He dialed her number again, watching her smile at the rose grow wider as she answered the phone. "Someday, Carter, I'm going to make you say my name when you're not pissed off."

She sighed. "Someday you're not going to piss me off."

"I didn't realize you'd be insulted by a flower."

"I'm not insulted by a flower. I'm insulted that you're fucking stalking me." She turned around, but caught herself before she looked far.

"I'm not stalking you. I'm just keeping an eye on you." And then it occurred to him that while he was having a great time toying with her, she might not have been enjoying it at all, despite her smiles. "Do you want me to stop?"

Worrying her lip, she closed her eyes and thought about it.

He wasn't expecting that. He'd been expecting an immediate, sarcastic quip.

"If you're offended, Carter, just say the word." He felt like an ass, toying with the woman who had enough trouble in her life.

"I'm not offended, more like-" She leaned against the wall of a building, closing her eyes. "It's not fair you can see me and I can't see you." She lifted the rose to her face, inhaling the scent of it. "No, I'm not offended at all."

He grinned, her words silencing his fears. His attraction to her was obviously returned and he only found encouragement in her behavior. "Good."

Then she stood up, squared her shoulders and smirked at the phone. "You want me to say your name when I'm not pissed? I want to see your face." She hung up, slipped the phone into her pocket, and continued on her way.

She wanted to see him. He couldn't help but grin as he followed her. Hell, he kind of wanted to sing. She hadn't said she'd wanted to see him so she could slap him and Reese liked to think he knew her well enough to be certain that she absolutely would say that if it were the case. Carter had no qualms with saying exactly what was on her mind; it was one of the things he liked about her. She wasn't shy. She'd call bullshit to anyone's face at any time.

She wanted to see his face. He couldn't name the last time he'd been so excited, so eager. Carter was good at keeping up her end of a bargain. That was something they'd established very early in their relationship. If he let her see him, she'd call him by his name.

Damn, it was enticing to even think about it, to imagine his name rolling off her lips in that lyrical voice of hers. He could almost hear it, her mouth close to his ear, whispering his name, her hands on his shoulders, drifting down his chest, the rest of her words disappearing as his mouth connected with hers, his body pressing against hers.

The sound of a horn snapped him out of it this time, an angry driver cursing him after Reese had walked right out in front of him.

It had been so long, too long, that he was damn near getting himself killed at the thought alone. He needed to resolve that soon. Maybe very soon. Provided he didn't get himself run over first.

He needed to engage her, to actually keep her close to him, if he wanted to prevent his obviously overactive imagination from conjuring her up for him. She was already on the speed dial, so it only took a moment to be in contact with her once again.

She wasn't looking in his direction, but she was smiling. He could hear it in her voice. "Miss me already?"

"Always." He almost regretted it, feared having revealed himself too easily to the woman, but he reminded himself that she'd been more than welcoming to his attempts all day. "Did anyone ever tell you that you look fucking amazing in red, Carter?"

He watched as she looked down at the red blouse she wore under her blazer. She was still smiling when she replied. "I bet you look damn good in anything." Her mutter came a moment later, before Reese even had a chance to think of how to respond. "Hell, I bet you look damn good in nothing."

Oh yeah, she was definitely willing to play.

In that instant he completely understood her frustration with not being able to see him. He wanted nothing more than to be able to see the look in her eyes right then, when he knew she was thinking of him in such a position. He swallowed hard, hoping like hell that she didn't know how badly her response had thrown him. He was good at dishing it out; taking it, however, was a bit harder for him.

"I've got some scars."

The long pause confused him, but only until her soft voice answered. "Now I feel guilty again."

He had no doubt she meant it. She'd already apologized. He'd let her babble on about it at their first meeting at the diner, letting her talk until he was convinced she was sincere. It had only taken about ten seconds. This time, he wanted to fix it, to soothe the hurt she felt, to assure her that reminding her hadn't been his intent at all. He ached to wrap her in his arms and promise her everything was ok between them. And it was. He harbored no bad feelings about the decision she'd made that night. He understood it. He understood her. And, had he thought about it at the time, he would have been able to predict exactly what she'd done. Except that night, like so many times he'd talked to her, like every time he'd talked to her, he'd been trying to impress her, trying to win her over, and he'd spoken without worrying about the consequences.

"Shit, Carter, I didn't mean-"

"I know." He saw her nodding, knew that she somehow did know.

"It wasn't your fault. Don't blame yourself for what happened. I don't blame you."

She looked around, trying to spot him in the slightly thinner crowd. "How can you not?"

"Because you didn't know Snow was a lying bastard." He waited, hoping his words would have an effect. "Because you never would have done it if you had known."

"How can you know that? You don't even know me."

"I do know you, Carter."

"Bugging my phone doesn't mean you know me." She kept looking, even though she certainly realized it was futile.

"No," he laughed, "but it helps. Hell, maybe if you'd bugged my phone you wouldn't have tried so hard to catch me."

Her face was pinched as she gave one last look around then shook her head and began to walk again. "I might have to try that next time I see you, whenever the hell that will be."

"If I told you that, it would take all the fun out of it."

"I am sorry, you know. You saved my life and I turn around and repay you by nearly getting you killed. I don't care what kind of special training you have, that had to hurt like hell."

"You don't owe me anything, Carter. It's my job."

"I was less appreciative than most of your clients, I imagine."

"You put on your vest. That was all I wanted you to do and you did it. Actually, you were quite compliant now that I think about it." He wasn't about to mention how relieved he was to discover that she had taken his advice. He hadn't been sure she'd listened to him until she'd opened her shirt and revealed the protective layer that had saved her life.

"I doubt you wanted me to call Snow."

No, he hadn't, but if she hadn't, it would have left him some serious questions regarding her ability to be trusted. He'd liked her because she had an infallible sense of right and wrong. He couldn't blame her for getting confused when the moral compass that had attracted his attention in the first place must have been spinning around hopelessly in her head.

"Carter, if I promise you can kiss it and make it better, will you stop feeling guilty?"

Well, fuck, that shut her up.

Even Reese was staring at his phone like it was somehow to blame for his words. It was, technically, he never would have had the nerve to say half of these things to her if he'd had to face her. The phone allowed him to test the waters safely. He'd been able to observe her, to gauge her honest reaction, before he continued.

The problem with the phone, however, was that he couldn't see her face clearly, at least not with the way the light had already started to fade.

"You look tired, Carter. You should go home, get some rest."

He didn't need to see her face to feel the sadness radiating from her. "I'm not really in a hurry to go home alone."

His interest was piqued. "Alone? Haven't we covered this?" He waited for her to laugh before he continued. "Besides, Taylor will be home. You won't be alone."

"He's staying with friends tonight. It's just me and an empty apartment."

"You know if you stay out and wander the city all night, I'll stay out and follow you."

The crowds were definitely thinning now, but the shadows were multiplying, leaving him more places to hide from her searching eyes. "Why don't you just come the hell over here and walk with me?"

"Because I can't."

She slowed to a stop outside a market, the bright lights illuminating her face. "Why not? Suddenly against the rules to be seen with me?"

She looked hurt.

That was the only reason for his frightening honesty.

"Because after today, if I get close enough to touch you, I will, Carter, and I swear to god I don't think I'll ever be able to stop."

He saw the emotion on her face as his words sunk in, watched the way her eyes closed, the way her mouth fell open.

"Jesus…" she whispered. Her cheeks were flushed and her breaths came hard.

Ok, he decided, the game had gone on long enough. Teasing was one thing, torturing was another.

"Go home, Carter." He hung up, watching still, taking in the way her eyes snapped open at his words, seeing the moment of uncertainty when she remembered where she was, feeling the anger of the glare she directed at her phone before she slipped it into her pocket.


	3. Chapter 3

Part Three

He knew exactly how long it would take her to get home. He'd walked her home without her knowledge enough times to be able to time it precisely. He knew when she'd cross onto her block. He knew how long it would be before she climbed the steps to the front door. He knew how long it took for her to stop and check her mail.

When he knew she'd be halfway up the steps to the third floor, he called one last time, hearing the slightest note of sadness in her voice when she answered. "I'm honestly surprised you're not behind me." He could practically see the way she spun around to make sure that he really wasn't. He wished he was there, right where she expected, just so he could see her again.

"Do you remember the night we met, Carter?"

There was resignation in her voice, as though she was finally giving up on getting to see him after all. "Yeah, I do. I have to admit, I prefer your current state of grooming."

He gave her the laugh she was looking for. "Know what I remember about that night?"

"Probably not much, considering that you smelled like fifth of whiskey had curled up and died on you."

He couldn't stop the grin, despite the insult. "That's funny, Carter, because I remember how good you smelled when you sat on the table in front of me."

She was silent, the pace of her steps faltering the slightest bit when she realized he did remember it. There was a whine of hinges as she opened the stairwell door and continued the final leg of her trip home. Still, she said nothing, perhaps finally exhausted enough to stop fighting.

He heard her keys sliding in the door and wondered why she stayed on the phone, even when she had no intention of answering him.

"All this time, I've been wondering if you taste as good as you smell, Jos."

She slammed the door behind her, dropping her keys, badge, and gun on the table by the door. Then she tossed the rose and her mail atop them. "Fuck you, Reese." She slapped the phone closed as soon as she had a free hand and dropped it onto the pile.

With a grin, he stepped forward, moving out of the shadows of the darkened living room. "And here I was looking forward to you saying my name when you weren't pissed."

She couldn't believe he was there; he could see it written across her features plain as day. Knowing she was too stunned to move, knowing he was too desperate to wait, he closed the distance between them in two long strides. He backed her right into the door, one hand moving to her hip, the other cupping the back of her head as he leaned in to kiss her.

Her mouth fit against his like it was meant to be there. In fact, the whole of her body felt like it was molded to be against his, her soft curves filled in the hard edges of his. It was happening so fast, almost too fast, after the months of longing and teasing and chasing. He couldn't believe that he was finally kissing her, that she was actually letting his tongue slide between her lips, that it was Carter's body pulling such a feral reaction from him.

She offered no resistance, showed no hesitation, pressing herself harder against him, wrapping her arms up under his and cupping her hands around his shoulders. She gave as much as she got with the kiss, fighting him for control exactly the way he'd expected from her.

As he tilted her head back to wrench the control from her, she shifted her hips, rolling them against his. Checkmate. He gasped at the sensation, at the feeling of his body instantly responding to her encouragement, his rock hard erection pressing against her and leaving her no question as to his intent. She groaned into his mouth and rocked herself against him again, letting him know that she was absolutely ok with wherever he planned to take them.

He trailed his lips along her chin, down her throat, suckling at the skin under her ear, successfully pulling another groan from her. His mouth curved into a smile as he tasted her throat, his teeth accidentally biting down when she lifted her leg to curl around his. His pelvis pressed into the cradle of her legs. He heard himself growling and would have been mortified except he was too turned on to care. He wasn't embarrassed anymore at the strength of his body's reaction to her, not when she countered everything he did with something equally as desperate.

As his hands moved down to grasp her ass, she pulled her other leg up and let him support her weight as she ground her hips into him.

He damn near dropped her as he thrust his hips into her. The stumble pulled a laugh from her, from him as well, as they tried to right themselves. Still, the moment didn't break the spell she had over him and he nuzzled her neck while she laughed.

Her fingers laced through his hair, maneuvering his mouth back to hers, but before she kissed him, and caught his eyes. "Maybe we should move this to the bedroom?"

He nodded, his mind willing, his body unable to give up the physical closeness he'd resisted for so long, not even just long enough to get to a horizontal surface.

She noticed his hesitation, reading something in it that wasn't there. "John?" Finally, his name. But it wasn't right, it wasn't the way he wanted to hear it. Her voice was soft, scared, nervous. He hated that he'd made her feel that way, especially in light of the way she was making him feel like he was sixteen again.

He moved his hands to cup her cheeks, his thumbs stroking her soft skin. "Jos, you need to know-"

Her eyes moved down and she shook her head. "Don't, it's ok. I get it."

He watched her struggle with her idea, her very wrong idea, that something had changed, that he was backing out. He couldn't seem to find the words to fix it. He'd always sucked when it came down to talking about his feelings. Sure, he was always ready with a smartass remark when he needed one, but when it mattered, when someone's heart – even his, especially his – was in play, he was always rendered mute. The story of his fucking failure of a life.

She put her hands on his chest, firmly pushing him away as her eyes continued to avoid his.

He gripped her arms, wishing he could figure out how the hell to say she was mistaken.

And then she looked up at him, heartbreak evident in the tears that were welling in her eyes. She shook her head again. "Let me go, please."

The sight of her tears, the sound of her broken voice, the knowledge that he'd reduced such a strong, brave woman to that - it killed him. It broke the dam holding him back as well. He pulled her against him, crushing her small frame in his embrace, his lips searching for her ear so she might hear his whisper.

"No, no, Jos, no, I'm not backing out, I'm not going to leave you. Shhhhh." He continued to hold her, rocking her gently as he felt her arms tentatively slide around his waist. His lips turned to press a kiss into her hair. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you." He heard his voice breaking as he spoke, his own tears spilling down his cheeks at the idea of having hurt her.

That was his whole goal in life anymore, after all, to keep innocent people from getting hurt.

He pulled back, letting her see the tears in his eyes, hoping his reaction would help her understand how truly out of his depth he was.

Her brow furrowed, her face opening in curiosity though her eyes remained guarded. "Reese? What's wrong?"

His hands moved up, caressing her back and shoulders, smoothing over her hair before finding their way back to her face. He wiped at her tears with his thumbs, caring more about hurting her than crying in front of her. "I don't want to hurt you, Jos, I just need to you understand that I'm really not good at this."

He stood stock still, holding her eyes, waiting to see if she could read between the lines and figure out what he meant. Except, hell, he didn't even know what he meant.

But if there was one thing he'd learned, learned the hard way too, it was that no one could read his mind. He swallowed hard and decided to put it all out there. The woman was still standing there with her arms around him and waiting for him to deliver some crushing blow to her self-esteem, probably giving him the benefit of the doubt while fully expecting him to say he only wanted one night with her.

Nothing could be further from the truth, but if he didn't tell her, she'd never know.

Jessica sure as hell hadn't. And that was his own damn fault because he'd never been able to tell her in simple words that she could understand. Hell, he'd never been able to tell her at all, not to her face.

But Jocelyn wasn't Jessica. Rather than issuing an ultimatum she knew full well he couldn't respond to and walking away like he'd let her down, Jos simply waited. Just stood there, laid as bare as he was, tears drying on her cheeks.

Seeing her courage made him braver than he'd ever been before.

"I care about you, Jos." He paused trying to put his thoughts in order, letting her start to process that it wasn't bad news he wanted to give her. "I'm not going to walk away after tonight and pretend nothing happened. If we do this," he searched her eyes for some sort of sign. "If we do this, Jos, I'm all in. We really do this. I'm not a halfway kind of guy."

She stood silently for a long moment, a terribly frightening moment for him, and then, ever so slowly, she started to nod. "I'm not twenty anymore. I'm not looking for a roll in the hay here either. I have a teenage son that I have to worry about, that I want to be a good example for. You try to bail on me after this," she shook her head, a hint of a smirk forming, "god help me, Snow will look like Mother fucking Theresa." She withdrew her hands from his back, sliding them up to his face. "I'm sure you know, since you've been stalking me and all, I don't bring random guys home where my son might see them."

He nodded, trying to calm the way his heart was pounding.

"You're here, John, that should tell you something."

Again, his name. And again, not right.

He couldn't resist smirking. "I did pick the lock, Carter, that's not really the same as being invited."

"I didn't shoot you for it, did I?" She laughed, the uncomfortable tension melting away as she grasped his collar and tugged, looking up through her lashes at him. "You want an invitation?"

And that, he realized, was the whole of it. He didn't just want to have seduced her by flirting with her until she was out of her mind with desire and desperate for release. He wanted her to say she wanted him there. He nodded. "Yeah, I do."

With quite possibly the sexiest grin he'd ever seen, she stepped away, reaching out to take his hand as she backed toward the bedroom. "Spend the night with me, John."

And there it was, his name, exactly as perfect as he'd known it would sound coming from her. He smiled stupidly at her, reveling in having earned the attention of such an amazing woman. He let her lead him into the unfamiliar room he knew he'd get to know quite well. "I'd love to, Jos."

And then, they moved to the bed, finding any more words entirely unnecessary.


End file.
